Under the Table and Screaming
Summer storms are raiding the Indiana area. Lightning errupts in flashes outside. This isn't unusual. The technology that is telling us about these storms and why the black spots over "your" county is bad, is very new.
What isn't new?
The dog that can sense thunderstorms hours before they even happen. The stray -- not so much a stray anymore, since she thinks she belongs to us -- has large batwing-like ears. When those ears go up, we look at Raible's head and describe it a piece of artwork like "Raible Takes Flight", especially when her head flies in front of the television screen. Giant satellite dishes.
Those batwing ears have the best reception than VIPIR could offer. We don't need to lick our fingers and feel the wind. We don't need to look and see if the leaves on the trees are turning over. We don't need to make sure the cows in nearby pastures are laying down.
The only thing we do is ask "Where's Raible?"
And then we know.
Something wicked this way comes, and Raible is under the small end table.
Raible is half collie, half golden retriever. She is about a yard long and 55+ pounds, and she can curl herself under and around any small space. She'll give any yogi a run for their money. Tables move. Footstools are pushed aside. Your lap is gone because she is thinking like a little poodle.
There are studies out there to help calm canines down when they have thunderstorm phobias. Some stories out there showcase how a dog can wreck a house the minute thunder pulses through the air, while more timid cases, like Raible under a table, just lends the dog owner concern. Or laughter. Or, in today's case, "op, storms are on their way!"
What isn't new?
The dog that can sense thunderstorms hours before they even happen. The stray -- not so much a stray anymore, since she thinks she belongs to us -- has large batwing-like ears. When those ears go up, we look at Raible's head and describe it a piece of artwork like "Raible Takes Flight", especially when her head flies in front of the television screen. Giant satellite dishes.
Those batwing ears have the best reception than VIPIR could offer. We don't need to lick our fingers and feel the wind. We don't need to look and see if the leaves on the trees are turning over. We don't need to make sure the cows in nearby pastures are laying down.
The only thing we do is ask "Where's Raible?"
And then we know.
Something wicked this way comes, and Raible is under the small end table.
Raible is half collie, half golden retriever. She is about a yard long and 55+ pounds, and she can curl herself under and around any small space. She'll give any yogi a run for their money. Tables move. Footstools are pushed aside. Your lap is gone because she is thinking like a little poodle.
There are studies out there to help calm canines down when they have thunderstorm phobias. Some stories out there showcase how a dog can wreck a house the minute thunder pulses through the air, while more timid cases, like Raible under a table, just lends the dog owner concern. Or laughter. Or, in today's case, "op, storms are on their way!"